Fri Jan 28, 2011 9:34 am
#932750
Winter Blues
Pilot X obtains his IMC Rating to make good use of his new share in a Rockwell Commander. His first solo flight follows weeks of bitterly cold winter weather… By Richard Boswell
Overnight the temperature rose by six degrees. The ice started to clear as quickly as it had formed and it appeared that the entire country breathed a collective sigh of relief. The temperature was now +3°C, still technically cold for this time of year but significantly warmer than the last three weeks. And with a south-westerly wind, rather than the biting northerly that had become the norm, the temperature increase felt dramatically more than the six degrees.
X was itching to go flying. His last flight had been almost a month ago and that flight had been the successful conclusion of his IMC rating. This was something he had been meaning to undertake for many years, although there was always something else that seemed more important. However, the rating became a priority three months ago when he acquired a quarter-share in a Rockwell Commander 112 TC. This aeroplane was a big step up in performance, both in terms of airframe and avionics; this aircraft was fully airways-equipped. During the checkout, X quickly realised that in order to get the maximum from this aircraft he needed to upgrade his skills and his licence. He bit the bullet, enrolled on the IMC course and found time at weekends to actually complete it.
The day of his final test had been cold, clear and crisp – a classic winter’s day with not a breath of wind. It turned out to be the perfect day for flying on instruments, with the cold air remaining smooth through the flight and no drift at all. That evening, X had gone to the pub to celebrate – and that same night the temperature dropped below freezing, staying there for the next three weeks with snow and ice increasingly hindering everyday life. For most of this time his base airfield had been closed simply because they didn’t have the resources available to keep the runway and taxiways clear. Now the big thaw was almost complete and X was determined to go flying.
The route was simple and one he had done many times before – a fifty-minute hop to a small, tarmac airfield out to the west that had a decent restaurant. Recently, the field had been equipped with an ILS, which, with his new aircraft and skill set, gave X an added degree of comfort.
The weather seemed OK for the trip; the westerly wind had brought in a layer of stratus at 1,500ft but with the highest ground en route being just under a 1,000ft this shouldn’t be too much of a problem. The visibility was 5km at both departure and arrival airfield. Not perfect, but legal... and X had the comfort of his new rating which gave him a confidence he had not experienced before.
Missed approach
Ten minutes into the flight, X found himself having to make a decision. As he flew to the west, the cloudbase had slowly lowered from 1,500ft to 1,200ft, with his destination airfield reporting a base of 1,000ft above aerodrome elevation. However, he had the minor problem of the high ground located between his present position and destination. He engaged the autopilot and considered his options.
He could push on below cloud, but obviously this would put him close to the top of the high ground. He could turn around and go home; there was no pressure on completing the trip other than the pure joy of flying. Finally, he had the option of climbing and going over the top. The cloud tops had last been reported as 2,500ft, so the cloud layer should be relatively thin. The option of turning around was probably the safest, but there was no reason not to climb, apart from a slight apprehension of taking the aircraft deliberately into IMC without an instructor sitting next to him. He requested a climb to 5,000ft and, once granted, he disengaged the autopilot, focused on the instruments, opened the throttle and started the climb.
At first, his nerves made X a little unsteady. However, he forced himself to concentrate on the AI and keep his scan going. At 2,400ft he burst out of the cloud into blue sky. He continued the climb up to 5,000ft and re-engaged the autopilot. He checked the Ts & Ps were normal, but with an air temperature of -10°C he needed to the turn the heater up a little and direct the air down to warm his freezing feet.
Thirty minutes later, with ten miles to go and clear of the high ground, he requested a descent and vectoring for an ILS approach. He was cleared to 2,000ft and with his approach checks complete and ILS frequency correctly selected and identified, he closed the throttle and started the descent. At 2,500ft he entered cloud and checked the temperature again, which was just above freezing meaning a chance of engine icing. Still, the airframe should remain clear. He levelled at 2,000ft as instructed and concentrated on the dials again. He stayed firmly fixed on the instruments as he was vectored onto the ILS. When safely established on the localiser, he descended with the glide path and double-checked that he had the QFE selected. At 1,200ft he glanced up to see the runway; nothing yet, so back on the instruments. Another quick peek up at 1,000ft and then again at 800ft, but still nothing seen. He confirmed the cloudbase with the Tower – they confirmed it remained at 1,000ft. X was perplexed. He had imposed a minimum DH on himself of 500ft, just had his instructor had advised, but this first solo approach wasn’t meant to be down to his limits.
At 500ft he looked up again. Could he see something ahead? He wasn’t sure and descended another 50ft… 450ft became 400ft before the penny dropped. He applied full power and instigated the go-around on instruments just he had been instructed. Once safely climbing away, he selected the heater to demist.
1 Why couldn’t X see the airfield even though he was in VMC?
2 What golden rule did X break?
3 What other airframe systems are prone to this kind of icing?
Pilot X obtains his IMC Rating to make good use of his new share in a Rockwell Commander. His first solo flight follows weeks of bitterly cold winter weather… By Richard Boswell
Overnight the temperature rose by six degrees. The ice started to clear as quickly as it had formed and it appeared that the entire country breathed a collective sigh of relief. The temperature was now +3°C, still technically cold for this time of year but significantly warmer than the last three weeks. And with a south-westerly wind, rather than the biting northerly that had become the norm, the temperature increase felt dramatically more than the six degrees.
X was itching to go flying. His last flight had been almost a month ago and that flight had been the successful conclusion of his IMC rating. This was something he had been meaning to undertake for many years, although there was always something else that seemed more important. However, the rating became a priority three months ago when he acquired a quarter-share in a Rockwell Commander 112 TC. This aeroplane was a big step up in performance, both in terms of airframe and avionics; this aircraft was fully airways-equipped. During the checkout, X quickly realised that in order to get the maximum from this aircraft he needed to upgrade his skills and his licence. He bit the bullet, enrolled on the IMC course and found time at weekends to actually complete it.
The day of his final test had been cold, clear and crisp – a classic winter’s day with not a breath of wind. It turned out to be the perfect day for flying on instruments, with the cold air remaining smooth through the flight and no drift at all. That evening, X had gone to the pub to celebrate – and that same night the temperature dropped below freezing, staying there for the next three weeks with snow and ice increasingly hindering everyday life. For most of this time his base airfield had been closed simply because they didn’t have the resources available to keep the runway and taxiways clear. Now the big thaw was almost complete and X was determined to go flying.
The route was simple and one he had done many times before – a fifty-minute hop to a small, tarmac airfield out to the west that had a decent restaurant. Recently, the field had been equipped with an ILS, which, with his new aircraft and skill set, gave X an added degree of comfort.
The weather seemed OK for the trip; the westerly wind had brought in a layer of stratus at 1,500ft but with the highest ground en route being just under a 1,000ft this shouldn’t be too much of a problem. The visibility was 5km at both departure and arrival airfield. Not perfect, but legal... and X had the comfort of his new rating which gave him a confidence he had not experienced before.
Missed approach
Ten minutes into the flight, X found himself having to make a decision. As he flew to the west, the cloudbase had slowly lowered from 1,500ft to 1,200ft, with his destination airfield reporting a base of 1,000ft above aerodrome elevation. However, he had the minor problem of the high ground located between his present position and destination. He engaged the autopilot and considered his options.
He could push on below cloud, but obviously this would put him close to the top of the high ground. He could turn around and go home; there was no pressure on completing the trip other than the pure joy of flying. Finally, he had the option of climbing and going over the top. The cloud tops had last been reported as 2,500ft, so the cloud layer should be relatively thin. The option of turning around was probably the safest, but there was no reason not to climb, apart from a slight apprehension of taking the aircraft deliberately into IMC without an instructor sitting next to him. He requested a climb to 5,000ft and, once granted, he disengaged the autopilot, focused on the instruments, opened the throttle and started the climb.
At first, his nerves made X a little unsteady. However, he forced himself to concentrate on the AI and keep his scan going. At 2,400ft he burst out of the cloud into blue sky. He continued the climb up to 5,000ft and re-engaged the autopilot. He checked the Ts & Ps were normal, but with an air temperature of -10°C he needed to the turn the heater up a little and direct the air down to warm his freezing feet.
Thirty minutes later, with ten miles to go and clear of the high ground, he requested a descent and vectoring for an ILS approach. He was cleared to 2,000ft and with his approach checks complete and ILS frequency correctly selected and identified, he closed the throttle and started the descent. At 2,500ft he entered cloud and checked the temperature again, which was just above freezing meaning a chance of engine icing. Still, the airframe should remain clear. He levelled at 2,000ft as instructed and concentrated on the dials again. He stayed firmly fixed on the instruments as he was vectored onto the ILS. When safely established on the localiser, he descended with the glide path and double-checked that he had the QFE selected. At 1,200ft he glanced up to see the runway; nothing yet, so back on the instruments. Another quick peek up at 1,000ft and then again at 800ft, but still nothing seen. He confirmed the cloudbase with the Tower – they confirmed it remained at 1,000ft. X was perplexed. He had imposed a minimum DH on himself of 500ft, just had his instructor had advised, but this first solo approach wasn’t meant to be down to his limits.
At 500ft he looked up again. Could he see something ahead? He wasn’t sure and descended another 50ft… 450ft became 400ft before the penny dropped. He applied full power and instigated the go-around on instruments just he had been instructed. Once safely climbing away, he selected the heater to demist.
1 Why couldn’t X see the airfield even though he was in VMC?
2 What golden rule did X break?
3 What other airframe systems are prone to this kind of icing?
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